


Amnesia

by TimeyWimeyJohnlocked



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2311265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeyWimeyJohnlocked/pseuds/TimeyWimeyJohnlocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been one month since the fight that separated John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. But John can't take it anymore, and has to go make things right. But how does Sherlock feel? [First chapter based on the song Amnesia]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Amnesia

**Author's Note:**

> This story (well, the first chapter) was based off of the song Amnesia by 5SOS. But you don't need to know/like the song to enjoy/understand it. I hope you enjoy!

"Sherlock, please understand!"  
"I know what you're saying, John, and I don't care!"  
"Just listen for one goddamn second!"  
"No, Just shut up!"  
"I just can't stand you sometimes!"  
"Well why don't you just leave then!?"  
"Maybe I will! I mean, I can't put up with you much longer can I?!"  
"Fine, then leave! I don't need you!"  
"I'm going! Goodbye, Sherlock. Good luck finding someone else to put up with you!"  
-SLAM-

John woke up suddenly. He had had the dream again. The memory of what had happened little over a month ago. The Fight. The final Fight. Where he and Sherlock had actually split up. He had slammed the door in his boyfriend's face. Two days later, Mike agreed to go get John's the things from the flat. It would probably result in another fight if he had gone himself. back then, he had been pissed at Sherlock, never wanting to see the annoying dick again. But now....

John sighed, standing up. He walked out to the kitchen of his small flat. He started making tea. The clinic where he worked was closed today, since it was Sunday. The doctor would probably just lie around, bored and sad. Regretting the choices he made that night. He wondered if Sherlock ever regretted that night. He probably didn't. Sherlock 'didn't need John', remember? John slipped back into bed with his tea, hyper-aware of the fact that there was only one body in the bed, instead of the two he had been accustomed to before The Fight.

John turned on the radio beside him to end the crushing silence. He could just hear Sherlock now... 'What's the point of the music? Don't you like silence?" John shook the thought out of his head. John wanted nothing more than to hear Sherlock's voice again. To see him again. To be with him again. But instead, he just sat there, listening to the music.

_If what we had was real, how could you be fine?_  
 _Cause' I'm not fine at all_

John wasn't fine. He was nowhere near fine. He needed to do something. He sat up, listening to the song that was basically narrating his life. He had to go talk to Sherlock. He had to at least _try._

John took a deep breath as he walked along the cool streets of London, headed nowhere in particular. He tried to get that stupid song out of his head to no avail. He walked around a corner, staring at his feet. He looked up for a moment and saw the scene going on right down the street. A crime scene. He saw Sherlock walk out of the house that was surrounded by flashing police lights. Sherlock was smiling and talking to Lestrade. He wasn't the least bit sad. He was fine. Sherlock didn't need John and didn't feel anywhere near as crushed as John did. John turned quickly and went back around the corner so no one would see him. He walked a bit before getting a cab.  
"221 Baker Street please" John blurted out to driver without really thinking. He sat, messing with his hands and jacket nervously. Sherlock wouldn't want to see John... He was happier now. But John just _had_ to go.  
John could hear the radio playing in the cab. Playing that one song he could relate so much to...

_It's like we never happened was it all a lie?_  
 _If what we had was real, how could you be fine?_  
 _Cause' I'm not fine at all_

John watched the oh so familiar scenes of London pass outside the window. He looked out, trying to block out the music pulling at his heart strings. He fought back tears. No, he couldn't cry... Not now.

 _and the dreams you left behind, you didn't need them_  
 _like every single wish we ever made_

John asked the cab driver to stop. He got out of the cab about a block away, he couldn't listen anymore. Still, the song followed him down the street. Some teenagers were listening to the song loudly on their own. He tried not to listen, but that was impossible.

_If today I woke up with you right beside me,_  
 _Like all of this was just some twisted dream._  
 _I'd hold you closer than I ever did before. _  
 _And you'd never slip away.___

John walked up to the door of the old familiar flat. He silently slipped in, still able to hear the slow, loud, song. He slipped upstairs to 221B. Either Mrs. Hudson wasn't here or she didn't notice, and John was grateful that he didn't have to have that interaction. He opened the door, breathing in the familiar stale air of the lonely flat. He sat softly in his comfy chair, waiting for Sherlock. 

_Cause I'm not fine at all_

John heard footsteps climbing up the stairs. He could tell just from the sound that it was Sherlock. He looked over as the door opened. The two stared at each other.  
For some strange reason, Sherlock seemed unsurprised to see John there. The detective observed him for a moment, before continuing into the room.

"So, you're here for something. For once I can't tell what. You're a doctor, and you're heartbroken. I can see that much. You love someone very much and you split up three- no, _four_ weeks ago." Sherlock continued, not really looking at John. "I don't know what you expect me to do... find them? I'm not that kind of detective. Goodbye." Sherlock waved his arm towards the door.  
"Sherlock, stop it" John said, staring at the man he still desperately loved.  
"Stop what?" asked Sherlock as he slipped off his coat.  
"Stop treating me... like I'm just a client" At this remark, Sherlock stared at the blonde doctor, confused.  
"Well What else would you be?" He said seriously. John searched the familiar face of Sherlock Holmes... there was no recognition there. 

_Tell me this is just a dream,_  
 _Cause I'm really not fine at all_

"Oh my god..." John started, staring at Sherlock's unwavering face.

"You've deleted me" 


	2. Deleted

"Oh, have I?" Sherlock asked calmly. The uter lack of concern in his voice shook John to the very core.  
"Yes, there's no doubt about it" John started, trying to stay stay calm. "otherwise you'd remember me"  
Sherlock frowned "Are you sure? I don't just delete anyone, I'd have a reason."  
John sighed and smiled sadly. "Well, I definitley gave you a reason..." He looked down "but I never thought you'd... delete me. How'd you even do that?" he asked rhetorically.  
"I just do. I delete all memories of the person, stuff them away, out of my mind palace." Sherlock could see the confusion on Jhon's face. "It's a-"  
"Yes, I know what your bloody mind palace is" John snapped somewhat angrily.  
"Yes, well you looked confused. Still do" Sherlock said in his usual matter-of-fact way.  
"Just...how?" You deleted all memories of me. What about all those cases? All those memories? Isn't something a bit, I don't know, off?" John asked.  
"The last few years are a bit of a blur, yes. But when living a life like mine that tends to happen." The detective started looking all over the desk and room for something. "Where are they?" He spat to himself.  
John sighed. Before, Sherlock could remember these years in detail. But now, it was gone. Still, John knew Sherlock, and knew what he was looking for. He stood up and grabbed Sherlock's writst. "Sherlock don't" he said "You don't need to"  
"You don't know what I need" Sherlock responded, venom in his voice "And I need them"  
"Sherlock, I know you." John responded softly and tenderly "You may not know it, but I know you better than you realise" he continued "You don't need them, you were doing so well."  
"Listen _John,_ I don't know who you think you are, but I don't know you, and I think it would be best if you just _leave_. 

John looked down, slowly releasing Sherlock's wrist. He could feel the already shattered pieces of his heart cracking more and more until he felt like it stop altogether. "O-Okay" he said, fighting back tears and slowly heading towards the hertbroken freedom of the door.

John rushed out into the cool air. The sudden chill bit into him like a frozen blade. However, the cutting cold itself hurt less than the dagger that had just been thrust into his heart. It was gone, all of it. Every memory, the good and the bad.They would only live on in John's memory but even he didn't know if he could hold on with this weight pressing into him.

He started walking down the street. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes. But no. No, he would not cry for a man who did not remember him. He just couldn't. He stopped walking at the corner and leaned against the cool stone wall of a building. He could feel the world spinning around him. Sherlock didn't know him anymore, so his universe was falling apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter and the next one are super short. expect longer updates in the future!


	3. Alone

John hadn't felt this way since the fall.

He'd never felt this... alone. Like he couldn't go to anyone. Not Greg, or Mrs. Hudson, or even Molly, and _definitley_ not Sherlock. Just like after the fall...he could never go to Sherlock again.  
John was drowning, consumed by the icy cold waters of dread. He might as well have just flung himself off of the hospital himself. Sherlock wouldn't even care, John would be just some man who died. He wouldn't even know...Sherlock wouldn't pay attention to a dead man unless he was intrestingly murdered. John felt tears slip from his eyes. God, he had thought going to see Sherlock would have made it all better... but he was worse now than he had been in a long time.  
John shifted uncomfortably in his chair, staring at the wall of his flat. He sipped the tea that had long since gone cold. The quiet in the room was almost eerie. This wasn't the silence that he used to have with Sherlock, the warm and calm one. No, this silence was cold and dark. That is, until it was broken by the ring of John's phone spreading through the empty room. John looked down and sighed, Greg had texted him.

So... I heard you went to see Sherlock. GL  
I'm sorry. GL

John rolled his eyes as more tears welled up in them as he slowly typed out a response.

It's not your fault...I just can't believe he could do something like this. JW  
You know him, always full of surprises. GL  
Yes, well, I wish he wasn't this time.JW  
I tried to convince him not to do it. I'm sorry. GL  
It's not your fault. JW  
What has he been like since? JW  
Basically, he's like he was before he met you. GL  
So, quite annoying, cold, and not nearly as good of a man as you made him. GL  
Oh, God, I miss him. JW  
I thought you two broke up though? GL  
You know I could never stay away for long. JW  
Now I have to. JW  
I'm so, so, sorry. GL  
I'm in love with a man who can't remember I exist. JW  
Look at what my life has turned into. JW  
Sorry, I've got to go. Got a case. GL  
Alright. JW  
Keep an eye on Sherlock for me. JW  
I will. GL

And with that, John put his phone down, and slipped into the abyss of loneliness once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter and the last one are so short! 'll post longer chapters in the future!


End file.
